Power to Rule the World?
by PurpleMoon3
Summary: Take their head, take their Power.  Richie wants to know exactly what this means.


**Power to Rule the World**

**A Highlander One-Shot**

**Disclaimer: PurpleMoon3 owns nothing at all to do with the Highlander franchise.**

**Summary: Take their head, take their Power. Richie wants to know exactly what this means.**

Richard Ryan dropped heavily in a nearby chair, and glared at his teacher. MacLeod had never gone into the specifics of Immortality until Richie himself had grown into it, or rather had been pushed with the barrel of a gun. Since the revelation the man had turned into an overbearing mother-hen: wanting to know where Richie was going, who he was talking to, if he was practicing his sword forms every day. There was purpose behind it, sure, a new Immortal was like catnip to any head hunters that may be passing by.

But it was starting to get annoying. The new Immortal appreciated everything Mac was doing for him, he didn't want to lose his head just because he was a little out of shape, but some things had been nagging him more than others.

He watched as the elder Immortal drank from a bottle of water, and decided to make his move. "Hey, uh, Mac. I know that the Quickening, the power, goes to whoever keeps their head but... what does that mean, exactly?"

"It means you're alive, and they aren't." Duncan replied smoothly, almost evasively, causing Richie to finger the handle of his sword nervously.

"Well, yeah. But what does that mean? Power. I seen some of you guys, the older ones, go at it and it's like... wow! Sparks! Lightning! But... what good are the fireworks? You say that you're getting power, but if the Prize is being able to single-handedly solve the world's energy problems, I'll pass." He shrugged and wiped the sweat from his face after the Highlander threw him a towel. Duncan was being to look rather obvious in his discomfort. "Come on. Tell me. I'm in the club now, I need to know!"

"I don't..." MacLeod started, stumbled, and paced for a moment across the practice mat before shaking his head. When he started again, Richie was beginning to regret his question. The polished, American accent was giving way to the rough Highland roots of Mac's origins. Usually that only happened when he was distracted, or stressed, and usually he only got that far upset when faced with a Challenge. "We don't like to talk about it. There's enough trouble with head-hunters as it is."

Richie looked at his own hands, playing back the last week in his mind, hoping that he would get some answers. Before he had to press the issue, however, Mac continued.

"It's different for everyone. Some people don't have anything extra at all, or they have something that doesn't really help. Lots are pretty useless, actually, and it is one of the reasons Challenges are fought with bladed weapons only."

"Not really explaining anything, Mac."

"I know, I know. It just that the Talk isn't supposed to happen for a few decades..." Duncan took a breath, sheathed his sword, and turned to face Richie. "Some Immortals have a few extra talents, kinds of magic, that come with age and experience. You've met Cassandra, you know about her Voice. That's a talent."

"I thought it was because she's a witch."

"Yes, well, the background helps her cultivate her skills. The thing is... if Cassandra were to loose a Challenge, the Immortal that took her head would gain her ability to use the Voice." Richie swallowed nervously at the thought of a head-hunter having the power to convince his prey to lay down his weapon. "But that doesn't mean they WOULD use it. First, they would have to know she has it, then they would have to figure out how she does it. The memories they gain from her quickening may help them, or they may not. You yourself know what kind of grab-bag of memories we gain from the Quickening. That's what they mean by taking another's power."

The older man turned to go, probably for a shower or possibly to begin making lunch, but Richie found his curiosity peaked. He stood, biting his lip, before coming out and asking in a rush. "Do you have a power?"

Duncan kept walking up the stairs, but he answered. Again evasively. "Methos claims he can survive on beer alone, and re-absorb the blood lost when he's injured making him nigh unkillable if it isn't a clean decapitation. Amanda can project her quickening to short out security cameras. My clansman claims that after he killed the Kurgan, he gained the ability to levitate, and some minor telepathy."

"That's so cool!" Richie followed him up the stairs, smiling widely. It sounded like some Immortals were bona-fide superheroes. "But that doesn't answer my question."

"...I'm an animal person." At his student's questioning expression, the Highlander continued. "I can, empathize, with animals. Communicate with them in a way. I was a very good rider back in the day, you know."

"So you're like a beefed up dog-whisperer?"

Duncan sighed. "Yes, Richie. I am a dog-whisperer. It doesn't help at all with Challenges, and I'd like to point out that while Connor admits flying sounds very impressive, it would draw unwanted attention and, as he put it, feels damned unnatural. Once again, very little help in a Challenge. He'd be too busy concentrating on staying air born to avoid any attacks."

"So don't mention it?"

"Yes. Most Immortals, if they have a talent, are either embarrassed about them or afraid it'll make them a target."

"Like how Methos is one just because he's old?"

Duncan nodded. Richie put their swords on a table, dumped the towels into the dirty clothes basket, and went to his room as the smells of lunch began filling the kitchen. He threw himself on the bed, and stared at his hands again. Talents came with age, with Power, and while Richard Ryan may be only a baby by Immortal standards he had, with his teacher's guidance, taken the heads of Immortals much older and stronger than himself. He slowed his breathing, and held his hands up to his face. Slowly, ever so slowly, they began to grow transparent.

He grinned, all teeth. Soon, he had completely faded from sight, and anyone who may have been Watching would have witnessed a voice sound in the air of an empty room. "Man. If I was still a thief, this would be the most perfect power ever."

End.

A/N- I skipped around when I first watched Highlander, so my timeline is probably a little iffy. I was bitten by a plot-bunny, and this spewed out. Originally I was going to have Duncan's power be to make flowers bloom, but then I remembered the episode 'Leader of the Pack' so he gets to be a dog whisperer.


End file.
